Bickering
by LuxaLucifer
Summary: They were bickering again. Maedhros laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, wishing they would quiet down long enough for him to drift back to sleep. They didn't, of course. They were bickering about him, practically a given. Still blaming each other for his pain, even though Maedhros had long stopped caring.


Written for Maedhros Appreciation Day on tumblr, for a friend. :) Post-Thangorodrim brotherly woes, I guess I would classify it.

* * *

They were bickering again. Maedhros laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, wishing they would quiet down long enough for him to drift back to sleep. They didn't, of course. They were bickering about him, practically a given. Still blaming each other for his pain, even though Maedhros had long stopped caring.

"If you hadn't made the choice-"

"We didn't even know we could save-"

"Findekáno did it, it obviously it wasn't that-"

"We didn't even know he was al-"

"We got a lock of hair ripped right out of his head, of course he was-"

"We had more important things to-"

"You keep saying we, like the rest of us-"

Maedhros began to cough even though he didn't need to, hoping it would stop the argument. They rushed to his side without another word, hands places in comforting spots anywhere his brothers could find a place. Macalaurë's on his shoulder, Carnistir gripping his arm too tightly, Tyelko stroking his hair, Curufin not touching, but standing close. Ambarussa had his hand, and held it with warmth. He fell asleep to silence.

* * *

"What kind of meat do you want? Venison?"

"Just because you're the one who caught the venison-"

"Yeah, it was way too skinny, there was no way he'll want-"

Maedhros was propped up against his pillows, watching his brothers argue over his next meal. The princes of their kingdom, he thought briefly and bitterly, before feeling ashamed. They were only trying their best.

He only wished they would listen to what _he _wanted.

"We have boar, do you want boar?"

He smiled wanly, his mouth aching. Funny how that worked. His missing teeth had hardly bothered him on Thangorodrim, but now the pain never left. The very thought of venison or boar was sickening.

"No, boar's too tough, get him duck-"

"Or fish, that's easy-"

Fish was softer, but it would still hurt. He didn't want something he had to cut, and it shamed him to have one of his brothers cut it.

"Soup," he whispered. "Hot soup."

No one heard him, and they finally decided on fish. Fish wasn't bad, not really. He would have preferred soup, though.

* * *

He was glad it was winter again. It had been warm when he'd been brought back, too warm. The heat had reminded him of fire, the fires in the deep places in Angband where the only sounds were laughter and screaming.

"I'd like to go out," he said to his brothers one day.

"No," they all said. "It's too cold, you'll freeze."

Finally, something they could all agree on. They didn't understand. Maedhros _wanted_ to freeze.

* * *

When it was spring again, Maglor would take the wheelchair that Curufin made out to the gardens so Maedhros could look at the flowers. There wasn't much of a garden, more of an area for growing herbs, but Maedhros loved it. It felt more real, more honest, and he liked that.

"Celegorm's being rude to the local Elves, I wish he wouldn't be," Maglor was saying. "And Caranthir's being rude to our relatives, he nearly got in a fight with Turgon last week. They're acting like children, I wish-"

The only part of the visits to the garden he didn't like was the conversation.

* * *

"You can't go hunting."

"Why?" said Amrod, whining. "The weather's perfect for it!"

Maedhros sighed.

"Because it's your turn to take care of Maedhros!"

"Oh, c'mon, he's practically, walking, he-"

He felt his hands curl into balls.

"Shut up! Do your duty as his brother! He'd do the same for you."

Maedhros wished they would remember that he was right there.

* * *

Dinner was painful, now. His brothers were always so bitter, so angry, even now that Maedhros could walk to his seat at the head of the table. He didn't like it.

"I think we should rotate our crops this year," said Amrod.

Now it started.

"I don't," snapped Curufin. "We did that last year, it's unnecessary effort, you just like-"

"If we don't the soil will go bad! Better safe than-"

"If we wanted to play it safe we would have stayed in Valinor!"

"Stop," commanded Maedhros, throat raspy and deep and commanding. "Stop it."

Curufin and Amrod snapped their mouths shut, eyes wide.

"Not just you two," said Maedhros. "All of you. You've been bickering since the day I came back, and probably before. It's caused me no small amount of unrest. This isn't how I taught you to be. This isn't how Father and Mother taught you to be."

Red faces all around the table now. His big, strong brothers often forgot that he'd been a big, strong adult when the first of them was born. He was there for them just as more as their parents were- and for the latter siblings, oftentimes more.

"You _will_ get along," said Maedhros. "Or so help me, I'll sit each and every one of you in time out and make you get along. You've been acting like children, and I'll have no more of it."

Angry faces now, except Maglor, who looked thoughtful.

Maedhros let his voice soften. "I missed you, those thirty years of torment," Thirty-four, but he rounded those four years of pain and misery for their sake. "I missed you, but when I came back I came back to a different family, an unhappier one. I don't like it. I love all of you, and I want to see you happy. Bickering doesn't help anyone."

Heads all around the table nodded, some more reluctant than others.

"Good," said Maedhros, satisfied. "Let's eat. Can I get some hot soup, please?"

The balance at the table had shifted, and Maedhros thought it was for the better.

* * *

I hope you liked it! :) Review and all that.


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